Stardust of the Fallen
by Allison Jakes
Summary: *Chapter One* A Gifted half elf-half human princess fated to shed her blood which has the power to recreate the One Ring. Can Legolas and Celebrin stop evil from ruling Middle Earth again? Contains key appearances by Gimli, Aragorn, and Arwen.
1. Character Introduction

For this particular fanfic, I felt it necessary to provide an intro to the characters involved.  This is considered 'fanfic' only because I use both Tolkien's world and some of his characters.  It does not, however, mean to follow any set pattern.  I own nothing that is Tolkien including but not limited to his characters, his lands, and his language.  I've used much of the little history that I do know to concoct this story, but please, if I happen to be drastically wrong, feel free to let me know.  But do keep in mind that I never intended for this to be in perfect accord with Tolkien's well-established world.  I haven't yet read the Silmarillion and so my historical references may be off – sorry.

**Disclaimer** : it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.  I only own what characters came up from my head  
**Summary** : this story takes place in the fourth age but draws on elven history of the first age. when two gifted elven princesses are cast out from their own, they join another group of elves to make for the Blessed Realm, but encounter trouble along the way. will the king of Ithilien, Legolas Greenleaf, help them defeat the evil Morthil who seeks to recreate the One Ring?  
**'Ship** : Legolas/Celebrin  
**Rating** : pg13

**MAIN CHARACTERS**

***Celebrin Elanoriel** : main female, dark elf of the Avari, Avari princess, first daughter of Queen Aretarië, stronger of the two sisters, name meaning "Silver in hue or color", last name means "Daughter of Starlight", half elf-half human, has the appearance of the elf, but sheds human blood. complications occur. She is NOT immortal except in the sense that she is not susceptible to age in appearance nor disease. She will, however, die as humans do. The only catch being that she will live an extended amount of years (she's capable of living for ages/thousands of years, but one day she will die). She is about 2,407 years old. She almost always appears ethereal. She has wispy platinum hair (long, like most, if not all, Elves) with silver streaks that run through her hair like rainwater and silk (basically, very prettily). When stripped of her dark earthly clothing, her skin radiates an almost pale shimmer and glow, sliver in tint (think moonlight). 

***Ainarien Elanoriel** : secondary female, dark elf of the Avari, younger princess of the Avari, daughter of Queen Aretarië, weaker of the two sisters, human in appearance but with elvish blood and immortality though she falls sick often. complications with her health interfere with the battle at hand. name means "Noble Holy Maiden". last name means "Daughter of Starlight" 

***Legolas Greenleaf** : main male, previously of the Lord of the Rings, king of Ithilien, a gray elvin paradise. as you know, a full-elf. obtains an interest in Celebrin. about 2,931 years old. 

***Aretarië** : "Royal Queen", queen of the Avari, prophesied leader of the Avari who later fulfills the prophecy-song's indication of falling for a Mortal (referred to only as "the Man with a Forbidden Name") and who must pay the consequences for her unwise decisions. the grief and sorrow she carries in her heart has much to do with the burden she inadvertently places upon the shoulders of her daughters Celebrin and Ainarien. There is a history regarding the Man with the Forbidden Name that is referred to as "the Betrayal". 

***Morthil** : the evil lost son of Sauron who seeks to recreate the One Ring by fulfilling a long-forgotten recreation spell that requires the blood of one special prophesied elf princess. his name means "Dark Silver" to contrast Celebrin's name 

**MINOR CHARACTERS**

***Gimli** : destined to make an appearance when it involves old friend Legolas! he will join in the old fun of battle and adventure 

***Aragorn & Arwen** : King and Queen of Gondor, old friends who try to help the elven sisters and their long time friend Legolas through this venture. their shared goal is to protect the vulnerable elven princesses' lives while advising Legolas on how to deal with both Morthil and his feelings towards Celebrin. it is unclear as to whether or not they will accompany him in this endeavor 

***Galadriel** : High Elf who seems to be aware of almost everything. she makes a minor appearance in the beginning and it is unclear as to whether or not she returns 

***Gandalf the White** : a brief appearance at Ithilien to clarify the prophecies with Legolas and to uncover the history of Aretarië and the Man with the forbidden name among elves 

***Kai-ghren** : the hideous, stronger (but slightly less "smart") descendants of the Uruk-hai. they work for Morthil but often hinder rather than help the evil Master's plans 

***Shadow-wraiths** : evil servants of Morthil, following the trail of the elven princesses. this particular breed of wraiths is not afraid of fire 


	2. Prologue

After the passing of the War of the Ring and the destruction of the One Ring, Middle Earth came to know a restless quietude and peace. Though the world had escaped one evil, they now faced another - a prophecy of old that spoke of the recreation of the One Ring.

From whence such power would arise was unknown. But it came to pass in the fourth age when dark whispers of Night Riders came from the East and the unsettling presence of Shadows were felt in the areas surrounding fallen Mordor and the land known as Belariand.

Evil had awoken, and the song that told of the story thousands of years past was once again sung, grieving a certain Elvish Queen more than any other being on Middle Earth.

Queen Aretarië carried a burden of such great weight and emotional pain that many who witnessed her suffering often wondered if a life of mortality would be a better choice. But such words were never spoken, indeed, they were never suggested, for it displeased the fair queen to be reminded of the curse of which she would never be free.

Knowing the evil and fate that she inadvertently cosigned her daughters to brought glistening tears to her eyes and a prayer upon her lips.

"_Vala, onthalion._" The words drifted off into the glimmer of moonlight and echoed in her mind: Vala, give them strength.

It was then that the voice of one wiser than she came to her in the form of a night's passing breeze. A voice she immediately recognized by the lyrical softness of it - the speech of Galadriel, the Lady of Light. The words drifted by her ear, and were joined by her own voice in it's recitation for it was a verse made familiar to her on the day of the betrayal of a Man with the Forbidden Name, and was scripted on the day of her birth by an Elven prophet.

_In the land where the peaceful glade lie,  
A princess was born to the Elvenkind.  
Glimmer and shade surrounded her frame,  
Special was she who went unnamed.  
Til Lady Galadriel gazed upon her face,  
And called her Aretarië for her silver trace.  
Gifted in ways yet unknown,  
Only in time would Her Protection show.  
Destined to lead the Avari in their rule,  
To the Elvenkind she appeared a fool.  
Falling enchanted into a mortal's embrace,  
To-day no elf dares utter his name.  
Accursed is he who advised her so,  
To the Blessed Realm she would never go.  
Weeping only desolate tears,  
Her daughters alone would challenge their fears.  
The sorrow inside corded by might,  
She would bid them farewell in their flight.  
To the Telerin they would flee,  
She cast her Protection and plead the Power that be,  
That her children would survive the curse of their past,  
And live unlike Mortals in the Undying Lands._

A single tear fell over the curve of her cheek and it drifted to the earth beneath her feet. Where it lay, sprung up a rare flower such as does not exist today but was commonly called Elven Tears of Grief. However, unlike most tears that spring up an odd hue of blue, this particular tear came to be white with blue edges. For that small wonder, Aretarië grasped the sliver of hope that had sparked within her, and moved away from the mist and towards the place of her dwelling.


	3. Escape and Discovery

**:: chapter one ::**

The flames were backbiting, searing the very air she was trying to breathe.  Ainarien choked on the fumes, the bleak Shadows the surrounded her were hovering above, daunting her with tales of her sister's plight and that of the Telerin Elves.

One half of the legion was slain, the other half in severe agony.  The whispered details of their mutilation and torture were more than her heart could sustain.  Grief was slowly overcoming her, poisoning her blood with its stench and sorrowful depths.  In the moments when the Shadows were closest, she believed she would soon know the feeling of death as it came to Elves.

She raised her head and coughed once, which was promptly followed by a series of other coughs, each worse than the last.  When she finally was able to settle, there was a small trickle of pale blue Elven blood at the corner of her mouth.  But though she was weak physically, she was strong in spirit.

The flames edged closer, desiring nothing more than to utterly consume her.  She nearly sunk into the grief and allowed death to come.  But she would not – could not – leave her sister alone in this endeavor.

"_Leithiamin, lachdûr_." She briefly shut her eyes and held out a hand palm out and brought the chant to her lips.  "_Lasto beth nin, guruthos lachdûr.  Im gwannathon ir muinthelamin sogacenedril o guruth.  Leithaimin!_"

With that, she collapsed, her last plea for help was whispered in the direction of the Avari to her mother, the Queen.  She drew another breath, then softly repeated her words, tying her heartbeat to the human drum of her sister's.

"Release me, dark flame.  Listen to my voice, dark flame of the death-shadows.  I will die only when my sister drinks of the cup of death.  Release me!"

Sensing weakness within her, the flame crept ever closer, anxious to revel in its destruction, but a solid ring of white light pierced the earth about her and shielded her from their grasp.  Unable to attain further ground, the flames leaped higher, wanting to taste the flesh of the fair Elven princess.

And so it was that Ainarien Elanoriel was protected by her mother, Aretarië, in her moment of need.  Indeed, the young princess had passed her test of loyalty and strength, and proven herself worthy of her calling, but there was yet more to come that would stretch her boundaries beyond what she thought imaginable.

***

The Battle of Egladûr[[1]][1] had been messy and bitter.  A half-legion of Telerin Elves were slaughtered by the Kai-ghren, a revolting race of Uruk-hai, but larger, stronger, and far more dim-witted for the most part.  Bloodthirsty they were, and though so many Elves had been victim to their axes, swords and sickles, they were not yet satisfied.

Celebrin had been one of the very few who had survived the battle unscathed, but her Gift forced her to feel the pain of others.  Stealthily she made her way to those that were most seriously injured and offered them relief.  For some, she produced berries and flowers from her small bag that hung from her belt.  They helped to numb the pain and quicken the healing, but she prayed that they would most lift the spirits of the fallen, for many were battling grief for the slain – and that, she could not heal.

Across the field someone began singing an Elvish lament for those who had been lost, and the words brought tears to her eyes.  The lyrics were so softly sung with such reverence and passion that it's translation couldn't adequately express the sorrow of the Elves.

Moving quickly, she situated herself between a dead elf and one just barely living.  The voices, cries and moans of her kind were not audible to any ear, but only in her mind where the echoes were endless.  In her heart, she cursed her Gift, yet she carried the knowledge that it would bring great help to those who suffered.  Lifting a palm, she attempted to find the source of this elf's pain.

Sadly, she came to realize that his wounds were minor but his mourning was great.  She applied a little juice from a special berry found only in the Beleriand and whispered words of encouragement.

"There is hope yet, Ciryatan."

He gave no answer.  Celebrin stood and felt the presence of a Kai-ghren behind her.

His breath was uneven, his snarl a constant sound beneath the rumble of his throat.  He stood about the same height as she, but with greater physical strength and ability.  Snatching her wrist, he pulled her close.

"Come with me, _princess_."

She turned her face from his foul-smelling mouth and stumbled after him as he yanked her along.  He brought her to his leader, a Kai-ghren with Elven blood splattered across his clothes and body.  Celebrin nearly vomited at his stench and the purity of her kind evidenced upon him.

"I understand you forsook the Avari and came to travel with the Telerin." Said the creature, his red eyes glowing a terrifying shade.

She refused to comment.  Instead, she inclined her head to the left and gazed at the fields where her people lay – some dead, some dying.

"Celebrin Elanoriel." He spoke her name, and she cringed for it sounded like a curse and felt like a slap to the face.  "The beloved.  The Gifted.  The _One_."

"I do not know who it is you speak of."

"Yes," he stepped closer, circled her.  "Tis she.  The one spoken of long ago.  The one whose blood will recreate the One Ring.  The one Morthil, son of Sauron, seeks."

Her eyes fluttered shut as she fought the current of emotions that tore at her.  So it was known.

"I am not she."

"Really?" a look of false incredulity crossed his face.  "Perhaps I should tell you why we seem so convinced.  It is said that the Gifted will come from the Avari Queen Aretarië.  It is also said that the Gifted will have a helper, who is Gifted in a different manner.  And so it goes,

_She who will come shall come in my name  
A shadow of beauty and an air of grace.  
Half-Elven, Half-Man, she bleeds red like the human race  
She is gifted by her Mother and will surpass her fame  
For by her blood will the One Ring be remade  
Should Sauron's throne be yet unattained._"

Hoarsely, she called out for him to stop.  She would be unable to bear her own private grief and the full recantation of the prophecy concerning her.

Gathering her strength, she stood straight.  And though her voice shook, she still proclaimed, "I am not she of whom the prophesy foretells.  I am merely an elf skilled in medicine.  I know it is rumored the Gifted shall be a healer of sorts, but I have done nothing unusual in my practice.  I've used berries and herbs, and none of strange origins."

The leader peered at the surrounding Kai-ghren, most of whom shrugged or nodded, indicating that she had spoken truth.

Suspicious, he leaned forward and grabbed hold of her waist.  

"It is rumored that the race of Gifted Elves glow when undressed."

In one swift move, he unlatched her belt and stripped her of her dark garments.  Beneath lay a blinding white robe which only partially covered her radiance, yet it seemed to blind the Kai-ghren as they staggered back, falling upon their own weapons and tripping over their feet.

Seeing an opportunity to escape, she sped off as quick and as lithe as a deer.  She tore through the flaps of the tent, heard the anguished cry of those she stuck blind and ran on.  A disturbance in the air signaled a coming arrow, and she dodged it by lowering her upper half and bobbing back up.

Two more arrows whizzed by and she nearly ran into another Elf who was helping dress the dead in dreary clothes.  There was no time for a proper burial, there was no time to stop.  She ran past and grabbed the gray apparel, clutched it to her body and kept going.  Another arrow came, but she could not completely avoid it, and it skimmed her upper arm.

Celebrin muffled her shock and pressed a hand to the open wound.  When she spotted the thick red liquid on her fingertips, she ran harder.  No doubt now that they knew who she was and she could no longer hope to find her way to the Blessed Realm in peace.  She would be pursued, she would be hunted.

And if captured, she would surely die.

  


* * *

[[1]][2] Battle of Egladûr – meaning, "Battle of the Forsaken Dark"

   [1]: #_ftn1
   [2]: #_ftnref1



End file.
